


Notes

by AlleyKat6



Series: Cole [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Car Accidents, Death, Depressed Hank Anderson, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 03:16:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyKat6/pseuds/AlleyKat6
Summary: Cole loved to leave notes around the house for his dad to find!





	Notes

Cole loved to write his father little notes and his favorite way to give them to his dad was to hide them around the house for him to find.

It wasn't the only way he did it. Sometimes he would hand them directly to his dad or put them up on the fridge, other times he would find his dad's wallet or lunch bag and put them in there.

His dad always put notes in his school lunch so the boy figured he would put notes in his dad's work lunch!

But for sure his favorite thing to do was to hide notes and little drawings all over the place. He was good at it too! Sometimes it would be months before his dad found them! 

There was still some hidden from Christmas time and it was now  _ October _ . Almost a year! He was proud of his hiding skills. It wasn't just hiding things either he was great at hide and go seek as well! At least if you asked him.

* * *

“Cole come on! We gotta get going buddy!” Hank called to his son. They were running late for their plans and while it wasn’t a huge deal that they were late he did want to leave sooner rather than later.

Cole lay on the floor of his room, papers, and crayons sprawled out around him. “I have to finish this drawing first Dad!”

Hank sighed but gave in. “Five minutes kiddo!”

Cole finished the drawing he was working on before grabbing the pile he had created and ran through the house to hide them.

“Cole come on kiddo! We’re late come get your shoes on!” Hank was getting impatient but the night’s plans were fun ones so he tried not to snap at the six-year-old. He gently urged his son to hurry up. The sooner he could move the boy along in his antics the sooner they could leave the house.

Cole had just finished up hiding his new batch notes he came running to the front door. He sat beside the door as he pulled his shoes on and hopped back up. The young child neglecting to tie his shoes as he moved to grab his jacket.

Hank stopped him. “Not so fast kiddo, come on tie your shoes.”

“They’re good like this!” The boy insisted, they both knew it wasn’t true.

Hank shook his head and gave his son a well-practiced ‘Dad look’™ “Cole…”

“Daadd.” And now he was whining.

“Come on bud just tie your shoes, you can’t run around like that you’ll get hurt.” Hank was trying not to raise his voice, he really was. This wasn’t anything to get overly upset over. Maybe he should just let it go or tie the damn laces himself.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Cole Christopher Anderson, I’m not arguing with you on this…”

“Good because I’m not arguing either!”

Hank sighed and shook his head and he crouched down and tied the shoes for the boy. “There.  _ Now _ we can go.”

  
They headed out to a friend’s house for an evening playdate for the kids. It was particularly cold that not but nothing too bad. Getting there on fifteen minutes late, Hank considered it a victory.

* * *

They had their dinner and playtime and the two-headed home. The roads were starting to get sleek and slippery. There even seemed to be a bit of ice here and there. Hank kept a close eye on the road and carefully headed home.

The radio was turned up and the father and son sang along together to Cole's favorite song. It was a good night…

...and then an oncoming truck crossed into their lane and ruined everything.

* * *

  
It had been several months since the crash. Hank still had physical wounds that were healing. They should have healed by now. Maybe it was from the unhealthy lifestyle the man had fallen into. Hank was  _ not _ doing well after the loss of his son.

On top of the alcoholism and lighter burns on his fingertips (the Lieutenant preferred to tease his finger over the flame over smoking cigarettes but he sometimes did both), his dog Sumo had gone neglected at times (never on purpose and never more than one or two missed meals) and to make things worse the house had become messy. Not a complete wreck. Just in need of some cleaning and extra TLC here and there.

The house was full of empty take out containers, half-eaten burgers, and just generalized mess. Piles of dirty clothes, clean clothes wrinkled in their own pile. However...most of his clothes weren't cleaned. It had been a while since he had done the laundry.

In need of a clean shirt for work (why he still bothered to show up was beyond him) so Hank finally got around to hauling a basket of laundry to the laundry room.

How he got by without doing it sooner was a true testament to just how long Hank could go with making the same old shirt and pants work.

* * *

  
The laundry room was hardly a laundry room. It was a small corner of the garage converted to accommodate a washer and dryer many years ago so the family didn't have to spend time and money at the laundromat. 

It was when he reached for the detergent that he saw it. He froze, arm outstretched and above him. Eyes focused on something else. The task having been forgotten.

A small paper was taped to the wall behind the detergent. Hand drawn stick figures and smiley faces filled the page and hard to read scribble lined the bottom. 

Most wouldn't be able to make the writing out but Hank could see it clearly, he had gotten used to reading the scratch style of writing and had been working with the writer to improve to something a bit more legible. 

His eyes focused on the words.  _ 'love you, daddy' _ and not far away was another message:  _ 'I'll always love you!' _

Cole. Cole. Cole. His sweet little Cole. It seemed his habit of leaving notes and drawings everywhere was a lasting part of the now deceased boy.

_ " _ Cole… _ "  _

Hank's heart ached...it always had since that night it was why he drank until he forgot everything around him...but this was something more. It hurt something extra but also warmed the man. It was a strange feeling. He couldn't describe it.

His hand shook.

Hank was snapped out of it when the bottle of detergent he was holding loosely slipped from his shaking hand and hit the washer below with a sudden and loud 'THUD'

Hank blinked.

His eyes stung. He was crying. He gripped the edge of the washer as the tears came. He took several deep breaths to steady himself but it wasn't helping.

He reached out and tapped at the note. Fingers hovering over the words his son had left him.

"...I'll always love you too kiddo…"


End file.
